Incentive
by Blushing.Violet
Summary: -Hey, since when did Freddie start lookin' so hot?- What a sorry excuse for a fake. She wasn't half the girl Sam was; or so she thought anyway. Seddie.
1. Chapter 1

One:

"And now on iCarly," She started, with as much enthusiasm as ever.

"We are going to make…" I paused, "Tell the people Freddie." He smiled and turned the camera on himself.

"A really big sundae," He chimed, almost as happily as I did.

"And, tell us, what makes this sundae so special?" Carly quizzed casually, brows furrowed. She nodded and I joined her in mock-wonderment.

"Cuz it's gunna be almost _twice_ the size of a normal school desk. We're gunna use about 46 pounds of pure vanilla bean ice cream, 5 large bottles of hot fudge and 16 cans of—"

When that boy gets his jaw flappin' he can really go off sometimes.

"Let's just say it'll be bigger than his head." I cut him off, nodding with a smug grin. He rolled his eyes.

"But what's this?"

"Oh look, it seems as if we already have prepared such a fantastic feat."

Freddie pulled the curtain back from his geek-cart and out popped one of the most beautiful sights I've ever laid my eyes upon.

"_Tah-dah_!" A ring of sparklers guarded the huge 'cherry' (apple) and the whipped cream formed a nice ring around its head. I'd probably attack it with the fury of a sub-tropical tribal leader and his mighty poison darts, but Carly would have my head live on the internet and I didn't need that kind of annoyance at this point.

"Happy 500th!" We chirped.

"To the people of iCarly,"

"The fans of iCarly,"

"Everyone who's made iCarly so popular,"

"And continue to make it…"

"To us…"

Freddie's eyes seemed to say that they were also important.

"Yes, even the tech-dork of iCarly."

"If only you had smell-i-vision." Carly shook her head softly, in empathy. "Or, taste-o-vision."

"Oh well, just lick your computer screen!" I piped, plastering a grin on my face.

"What would be better, than to eat it with—"

"Giant spoons!"

And they really were giant. No kidding; half the height of your normal homo-sapien used for indulging in one of the greatest of life's simple pleasures.

Opposed to steak sauce.

Freddie bit his lip & grew fidgety by the camera; shooting us 'wrap it up' looks.

"Till the next iCarly,"

"Remember to never trust a hobo handing out free imitation fatcakes." That was my parting words of wisdom for the week. And it was true. You never really should trust dem hobos, I did; look what happened to him. Guy lost a few needed brain cells as I knocked some sense into 'em.

"True dat blonde."

We waved to the camera, huge white rings of ice cream melting into beards.

"And we're clear!"

The boy scurried into the action like an 'outta my way' 5-year old at a giant piñata free-for-all.

* * *

I laid on my belly, sprawled out like an oven stuffed roaster. And I swore if I didn't _turn_ over it was going to _get _all over Carly's couch.

We groaned from every direction in the living room.

I wearily stared at my bowl, half eaten, and reached for it like I had arthritis.

"Don't." Carly scolded.

"Why not?"

"Cuz your stomach will combust. And I'm not cleaning you off the walls."

"Wh-h-hy?" I whined.

"Cuz you'll have to hose me off first."

Freddie threw his head back and closed his eyes gently a few seconds, opening them tiredly. I gazed at them. They seemed browner than usual from all the hot-fudge he'd wolfed down.

"Dude, you look pregnant."

He craned his neck up and scowled at me. "Thanks, I appreciate your name-calling."

"No problem."

"Ugh!" Spencer cried. Carly did the best she could to sit up.

"What's wrong?"

"Look at this!" He stated indignantly, dangling one blue striped sock with pineapples on it.

"...That is a sock." I observed, with a slow nod.

He stared at me blankly as if the entire world never understood his logic and bent down as he stuck it on his foot.

"I look like Wee-Willy-Winkie."

"Put the other one on." Frediffer instructed.

"I can't. Because Mr. _Sockmonster _thought it would be just so stinkin' hilarious if he ate my right sock today. He probably works with some, underground business. Yeah, yeah that's it." He plotted, nearing insanity. Not that he hadn't already come close to crossing that fine line before.

"Spencer," Carly chided.

"I'm serious! I thought I got rid of this dude years ago—AHHH!" He strided towards the counter, arms flailing desperately; "He followed me here."

_Now_, he has an imaginary stalker.

"He just _couldn't _resist the awesomeness for one more day. I _needed _this pair for my date with Judy."

"Judy?"

"Yeah, we're going out this Friday." He stated casually, eyes not bulging out so much as they were a few seconds ago. Then as if he'd never had that normal moment he ended up back into his rant, tone rising.

"But _now_, I have no socks to _go_ with, because of _Sockenstien_!" He threw his arms up, sighing. Then it hit him. He snapped his fingers.

"That's it." Spencer's eyes lit up.

"What's it?"

"I know exactly how to take care of that little booger in the laundromat."

"Yeah, buy a mesh—"

By then he was three-quarters of the way into his room, most likely calling Socko to warn him about the tragedy.

Carly's Pearphone sung a ditty for her.

"Email?"

"Text," She said, looking it over. "That's odd…"

"What?"

"Remember that girl who seemed like she had a crush on Freddie?"

"Oye, which one?" I whined; mind off the bloat in my stomach. He gazed over at me briefly.

"Sam's look-alike." She read it over some more, "Look's like she's been transferred over to Ridgeway."

"Why?" I blurted, icily.

"I don't, know. Here take a look." She tossed it to me.

"Let me see," Freddie asked. By now we were all lined up neatly on the couch.

"She misspelled sending," I warned him, in more of a quip for his particular-ness. Actually, it was more of just a nip at the grin that was forming as he scanned over the text message. Ignoring me, he handed the device back to Carly and she texted a reply in a furiously cheerful fashion.

* * *

**Something in me decided to ressurect an old funky favorite of mine today. -Shrugs- The entire thing is already written, basically. Although I'll probably edit it here and there, fill up any gaps. Just so you all know, Sam's look-alike is NOT Melanie. This is referring to the girl who pretended to be her so they could sneak out and go to the MMA. (You all know the one; who said how hot Freddie looked. ;P) And I wanted to treat you Seddiers to something since I've been neglecting you recently. :/ Call it Seddie Sunday! :D Lol. It's not exactly the... Best that I've done, but I figured it was decent enough to post up here. Humor makes me tend to write looser, so I guess you can say it's not my strong point. If you guys want more, I'll need about 6-8 reviews to be absolutely sure of it. Xp PUH-EACE!**


	2. Chapter 2

Kumquats.

That's what I say to all of this. …Pure nonsense… Idiocy. …Goof-in-shmootz. …Malarkey.

Why should she have to come back?

Why did they send her over _here_?

Why couldn't she end up in any of the other 32 school districts in the 20 mile locality? What, just because they decided to be _nice_? _NICE? _Pfft. If they wanted to be nice, they'd stick her somewhere.

Anywhere but here.

Possibly the nearest—

My train of thought is diverted by the school doors revealing the pride and joy of any person who could possibly be proud of Mary Poppin's apprentice.

Michelle Faye. My look-alike.

Some of the hallway turned to stare; she kind of froze timidly at their freaked out gazes for a few seconds and bee-lined her way through the parting crowd, towards us.

"Hey guys!" She said softly, elated. Coated in the highest concentration of valley-girl fructose known to man at this point.

Carly and her exchanged hugs, the former going on about how _great _it is to see her again and the latter just can't stop smiling. For what? You barely know us.

She nearly strangled me in a death-gripping hug, grinning as if she'd found her long lost puppy and going on about how she missed us and I look so different and making corny jokes, never loosing her smile for more than a few seconds.

After the awkward pause and seeing the irritation in my eyes, as I dust myself off gently; Freddie offers her a real brief 'what the heck' hug . It lasts. You can tell every inch of her is brimming with renewed energy after this.

"So, what've you been up to?" I piped, pulling out a steaming blue bowl of pork tetrazini from my locker. Mini-microwave; convenient huh?

She did a politely distracted double take as if she forgot I was here.

"Oh, same old same old." She waved it over. "What about you?"

I smirked widely into my bowl, picking at it. "Ending up in detention, raiding the Shay's fridge, squirting compressed cheese into people's textbooks." I listed, casually.

"That sort of stuff. Sam stuff, you know." Her face seemed to soften a bit at that, smile fading for about thirty seconds. It didn't take much for her to brush it off.

Freddie grimaced in a playful manner at my comment. "She ruined my copy of 'History of the Future, Volume 1'. I failed every test since then and my _grades _have been suffering. Big time." He glowered at me, and I responded with a slightly amused, slightly apologetic smirk. I sighed airily, shrugging.

"Is what I do. Say, what'd a fairy princess like you do to end up all the way over here?"

She studied me for about three and a half seconds, blankly, before saying anything.

"I didn't do anything that you wouldn't do, Sam." Her brows furrowed just the slightest bit, retaining innocence. The school bell screeched in our ears before we grudgingly marched to homeroom in an orderly fashion, hearing Ms. Briggs bark through her mega-phone all the way there.

* * *

So, this went on for a while. I had just finished giving Gibby the wedgie of a lifetime, (something he would look back on in his late 30's and shudder over) when I sauntered back over to the table and stopped a few paces short. Freddie was concentratedly trying to slice the, rounded…gravy saturated slab, on his, plate… Let's call it meat… and the other two were basically muttering amongst each other. Michelle seemed a bit worried; though neither of them spotted me because I have completely awesome ninja skills of ultimate stealth.

…

…

…

Okay, they were facing the other way and I stink at being a ninja. Happy?

Ham knows if she was concerned about the nerd's sagging underpants as he shuffled off in defeat, or the fact she'd been caught as her eyes met Freddie's and then shifted to mine, skeptically. She was talking.

About me.

Behind my back.

After shooting brief, naive glances at the three of them, I slid into my seat beside Carly; rejoining my barely touched tray and the trio that looked perfect on its own after I'd excused myself for those few vital minutes.

"What'd I miss?" I quizzed, coolly; staring at the practically dehydrated ribs on my plate. I rifled through my backpack for my trusty Arbells' steak sauce, smothering them. Never left home without it.

"Nothing much," Carly answered evenly, shrugging a single shoulder as she seemed to never stop twirling her spaghetti.

"What'd Gibby do this time?" She asked with a small sigh, finally looking at me. Michelle didn't seem to look up at all.

"Sold my address to a hobo, and a few other things he probably shouldn't've done." I explained, calmly. "I hope his tightie-whities give him enough regret."

"You gave him a wedgie?" Michelle's tone was inquisitive; quiet, picking at her fries with a fork. She never did eat any of them, I think. I would've taken them for her but I didn't think she'd have it. What a waste.

"Not just any wedgie," I began softly, staring off into space; mentally counting down the seconds. "A Texas—"

Cue Gibby scrambling towards the other side of the cafeteria, steam seeping from his pants, wailing frantically like an injured manatee attempting to sing. Her eyes followed him, burning with empathy, and the second the doors slammed shut the entire place went quiet for a few seconds, waiting for the inevitable:

"These were only four-percent elastic Sam! _Four-percent!_ It's highly controversial how my underpants could snap back like that!" He burst through the doors for a parting dramatic defense, leaving soon after. Carly shook her head gently, staring off at the doors as if they could fly open again.

"Poor therapist."

* * *

"Hey, what'cha workin' on?" I quizzed, tossing my backpack carelessly onto the Shay family couch.

"Nothin'," Spencer answered, with a barely contained grin. "Just a little thing I like to call, PAYBACK!" He jumped into a 'tah-dah' pose and I, looking the contraption up and down, gnawed my beef jerky and stared on in boredom.

"Um, what's it's supposed to be?"

He sighed resolutely, gazing at it a moment as if he was trying to figure out that very thing himself. His eyes fell back on me.

"…Okay, you know that sock monster that lives in the laundro-mat down the street and can't seem to get enough of my awesome footwear?" He prattled, in a breath. I blinked.

"You mean the one that doesn't—"

"D'yeah, that one. Well, using some materials I found lying around in the junkyard and a few of my old socks… I present to you… A socky girlfriend for the little guy!" He made another 'tah-dah' pose, arms stabbing out in its half-done direction and accompanied this one with a goofy grin. I cocked an eyebrow.

"…Okay, its, not really payback but—" He gazed at it a few seconds, fiddling with one of the stray pieces as if I'd accused him of planning to hurt Mr. Monster. "That way, you know, he can fill the empty hole in his heart with _love_... and… not, socks." He pointed out, soberly.

"And I get to keep the rest of the socks _I _already own." He sure bounced back quickly from my 'accusation'.

"But, that means you'll have two left feet each day." I reasoned. Heck, from the shape of the socks you could barely tell the difference anyway, right?

"I got those already," He scoffed lightly, with a laugh; checking his watch and biting his lip, expression shifting.

"Hey uh, where's Carly?"

"Her, Freddie and 'me' went to the Groovy Smoothie for a treat." I threw him some air quotes, collapsed onto the couch as my feet rested on the arm and flicked on the tube.

"Wait, _me_?"

"Michelle's back. I told them I'd rather hang out here and keep you company. Help with your… project." I muttered, eyeing it cautiously. "I mean, if you needed it." I narrowed my eyes at one of the socks as it dangled from my grip; tossing it over my head carelessly.

"Needless to say it'd probably induce alot of staring, and such…"

"Ah," He gave a single nod, pausing for a moment as he went back to fiddling with his giant sock… thing.

"Is that the girl that acted really sunshiny like she was the queen of the _sparkle _unicorns, was a bit taller than you, I think…" He squinted his eyes in recollection. "And, started drooling over Freddie alot?" I blinked a few times, registering his ramble. I could tell he was going for spot on.

"…Yeah and she wasn't _drooling_," I emphasized, "She just thought he was hot, was all." I threw my head back and gazed intently at the flickering picture-box, hardly paying attention.

I guess something in him clicked, because his whole demeanor changed after I put those two words in the same exact sentence.

"Ooooo," He cooed, galling. "Is you jealous?"

"Hardly," I retorted, glancing at his knowing grin for a moment. "You know how I feel about dorks." I stated, dully.

He smirked, shrugged a single shoulder and fixed himself a snack. Which I proceeded to politely ask for with sad, hungry eyes; and at his forfeit I devoured it. He made himself another, of course, but this time he stood over in the corner, shoulders hunched, and glanced suspiciously over his shoulder every 62 seconds. I didn't budge.

* * *

***Scrolls up after SECOND long editing session***

**Long chapter, huh? Anyway.**

**Just wanted to say...**

**To all you awesome people out there... Including you in the back row, top left hand corner. Yeah that's right bub, I'm talking to you. *Points you out* xP**

**YA'LL RAWK MY SAWKS OFF DA BLOCK, YO! Lol. I would've had this update posted earlier, but my computer had a brain freeze and I lost all of my perfected hour and a half editing. :/ I went back right away to fix it, though I hope it's just as good as it would've been. *Sigh* Anyway, I checked my email the other day and nearly was blown out of my chair! This story is getting alot more attention than I thought it would; just wanna say thanks! Enjoy, meh dahlings!**

**P.S. Trivia! Can anyone guess the significance of the look-alike's name? First person to review with the answer wins! (Wins what? I'll make it up as I go. xP It may even just be a small something, but it's something.) AND IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS! SO THERE! Lol.**


	3. Chapter 3

"It's open!" Spencer cried cheerily; whizzing around the kitchen with a pair of large scarlet mittens, preoccupied. "How's it going, kiddo? I know you haven't been feeling too hot recently, so I whipped up a few red velvet cupcakes for you and—Oh my God you're not Sam." He accused, darkly. As if everything his mother told him was an instant lie.

"I'm, I'm sorry I can't give you any of these." His eyebrows creased and his voice shrunk back in a hiss, as if he'd experienced someone with a bad scald wound.

"Not without permission anyway. She would eat me." He concluded, apologetically. Never was he to deny the ferocity between Sam and uncalled- for handouts to the enemy. Or those in question, at least.

Michelle managed an absent, soft smile as she folded her arms. "That's fine. I'm just here to—Wait, what's wrong with Sam?" Her head tilted in a single direction, shifting her weight to the other leg. His face seemed to freeze over.

"Did I say Sam?" He chuckled, light tone drifting towards the ceiling like a balloon. "I meant the ham in the freezer. Not doing too good. You know it's a funny story—"

"Hola muchachas." Freddie greeted saucily, holding a thick snake of black wire as he shut the door behind him. "Como esta su—Oh hey guys. Where's Carly and Sam?" He creased his brows, eyes floating between them.

"Carly'll be here in a few, she had to stop somewhere and—Sam—" The blonde whirled briefly, scanning the room. "I'm honestly not sure where she is. Nice Español by the way." She smirked; Freddie shrugged a shoulder with his own unkempt grin.

"Thanks. You sprekin'?"

"I wish." She gave a lopsided smile. Freddie buried his hands in his pockets.

"I've been taking classes recently, and it's really paying off. Maybe we could—"

"What up, peeps!" Sam called, skipping into the unlocked apartment and swinging Freddie in the arm. He yelled out, feeding her growing smirk. Michelle's eyes met hers for a second, licking her teeth and smiling just barely.

"I mean 'Oh I'm so sorry Freddie are you hurt?" She cooed, hollow eyes locked strictly on her look-alike. "Is your _face _okay?" Sam chortled at him, scoffing. "Cuz no doctor could fix _you_."

He creased his brows in mock-insulted-ness as she patted his shoulder in empathy for this sad, sad fact of life, and flew over towards the freshly baked tray, glazed with icing. Watching her selective, fiery eyes dance over the display, Spencer tentatively reached for one of the cup-size cakes in a chameleon-like fashion.

_Sw**a**ck!_

"I'm _sorry!_" He cried loudly, biting his knuckles. "They're just so... Velvety." He reasoned.

"Ya well you already had five of these." She threw back lightly, eyebrows creased as she bit the swirly white head off of one of them.

His eyes grew, shell-shocked. "What are you like, the cup-cake poli--How did you--"

"Box says it makes _twenty-four _minis per tray," She paused, stretching out her words for effect. She grabbed his half-finished glass of milk and chugged it down for him, sighing satisfactory.

"Mama only sees nine_teen._ Excluding what I had."

Freddie sauntered over after her initial pecking order session had subsided, and grabbed two of them as he and Michelle ran upstairs. The blonde stared them down, discontented at her loss; Spencer reached for another one with lightning-like re--

_T**hwa**ck!_

* * *

"Sup ya'll." Carly opened the door to a very tired Puckett. _Detention I tell you it's just not fun anymore. Takes alot out of a kid._

"Hey Sam, um, not to be rude but… aren't you supposed to be helping your mom...?" She smiled gently, eyes creasing out of pity. "With her, feet? Like you promised her you would the other day?"

She creased her eyes and tilted her head just a bit, pointing gently at her. "Aren't you supposed to be taking those, kazoo lessons your brother signed you up for?"

She considers this a moment.

"Good point. Alright you're in."

"So, about the other day…" The blonde droned, staring at pay-per-view. Carly fixed a few glasses of iced tea, set them down on the coffee table and took a seat.

"What about and which one?"

"Lunch. Monday. Ring any bells up there in the ol' noggin?" She knocked on the invisible door sitting between them.

Carly's gaze set and hardened onto the figures beating the snot out of each other on the television; like glue or something. Still staring, she finally spoke.

"Oh about what Michelle was saying?" The brunette sipped her tea, casually. "That's nothing. Freddie's upstairs; we should probably go rehearse." _And there goes the subject change. Hate them._ Sam pulled her arm back down as she shot up.

"Shay he's fine. Now, what was said about me? Mama don't like no bush beatin'." She knew it. Her bottom lip curled inwards and she chewed it gently.

"She just thinks you're a bit rough, is all." Carly stated, evenly. She cocked a single eyebrow, studying her.

"That's _it_?" Sam responded, flatly.

"Basically."

"Sure?"

"How could I not _be_ any sure-er?" She smirked, creasing her brows. "Honestly, you're so paranoid sometimes." Carly stated jauntily, whacking her on the arm. She rubbed it softly for effect.

"I'm not being paranoid; I'm being cautious." She defended, quietly.

"Same thing. And what's got your scared anyway? Michelle wouldn't hurt a fly even if it crawled on her nose and bit her, then buzzed around her head in mockery."

Sam sighed, "Ngh, I still say the chick's a whack job."

"So are you."

"Great minds think alike." The blonde added, in a sarcastically airy tone.

* * *

**So, like, if you haven't noticed...**

**The entire chapter is in Reg. POV. And the second half jumps somewhere... Next day? Gah, I told you this was a wreck. But it's really popular so at least I'm trying. x/ Right. Different POV issue.**

**I had circumstances beyond the all-knowing eyes of Sam Puckett going on and I really wanted to catch them. :p And I figured it would be odd if I left half in the other point of view, so I switched it over. ****I've got bits and pieces flying everywhere of this thing, it's going to be a real challenge to fix up. It's even harder because I find the Spencer and Sam interactions easier to write, and that's only supposed to be a sub-plot. :/ So, sorry for the extremely long wait. And kind of short chapter. =P But, hey. It's better than nothing right? **


	4. Chapter 4

"Ach!" An irritable Spencer cried. "This is _madness_!"

"What's maddening you?" I asked, letting my bag drag out of my grip onto the floor and flopping onto the couch, sipping the remains of a delicious and slightly nutritious smoothie.

"The guy's a cannibal!" He ranted to himself, thinking the voice he heard was the one that coherts with him regularly. I've heard it.

"What is going on and why are you as mad as a maddened hatter?" I droned.

"I'm not mad! I'm angry--"

He dropped mid-rant to notice the very large, very empty smoothie cup in my hand.

"You didn't get me one?" He stated, quietly.

"Well, I kinda did..." I explained, biting my lip. "But when I took the bus here, there was a stick-up and the guy tried to take over the--"

"Wait." He interrupted. "A, stick up--Are you okay?" He questioned, scanning me with his lazer vision. I shrugged.

"Seen better days. But anyway yeah so the guy yells and I'm in the front of the bus and some old hobo with a beard says 'You can't take this bus --I live on it.' And then while he's over there flapping his jaw, and the guy's distracted I--"

"How does this lead up to me not having a smoothie." He shook his head, slowly as he squinted. I sighed.

"I'm _getting _there. So I jumped him and gave him a taste of somma momma's medicine and the driver pulls over--"

"Sam. What happened to my smoothie." He grew indignant. It was all very fine that I settled the major chiz but the guy wanted answers.

I squinted my eyes for a moment. "Oh, right! I drank it." I grinned proudly. "And I had some huge onion rings from T-Bo for you but--"

"Nevermind." He sighed. "The sock-monster ate his girlfriend." He pouted, ratting on the invisible creature; as if stating my mom's cat peed in the car again. He lifted a wire frame of her from its ashamed hiding spot and presented the situation to me. I skipped over and examined the corpse of the specimen for a few minutes, pursing my lips as my eyes met his saddened ones.

"This, is why I rant." He informed, flatly.

"How could he possibly _do_ that?"

"I dunno!" He threw his arms up. "He just, _did! _It's kind of like that horror movie I watched the other night with the giant girl spiders that devour the human male population." He pondered upon it for a moment, head cocked at an odd angle and eyes toward a spot on the ceiling. They spat the skeletons out and--"

"Was _that_ the girlish banshee yelp echoing off the apartment walls Freddie was going off about today?" I quizzed, fighting a twitching smile as his face contorted into mild confusion and dramatic spacing.

He literally froze in his wild gestures describing the gruesome, wondering where that piece of information came from.

"They used their spines for toothpicks." He defended, calmly. "_Toothpicks!_"

"Reeeally?" I sauntered over to the fridge, taking inventory.

"And they brought the billions of skulls to their black-window--"

"Widow."

"--Queen to use as some type of, _sick throne-thing_!" He's greatly disturbed by this. It was as if this movie violated the rights of men everywhere like in the old days only backwards.

"_In_--teresting." I rifled through the fridge's many contents.

"So--" Forsaking his thought, he stares questioningly. "Why are you raiding our food containment system, oh blonde one?"

I slammed it, dissatisfied with its contents. "I crave delectable substance. Liquid fruit fuel will hardly do. Have any--?"

"Between the two bottom drawers right hand corner." He caved in, rolling his eyes. I stared at him, in silent appreciation.

Genius. I must scower the fridge more thoroughly for these crafty little hiding nooks.

* * *

"Hey Sam," Michelle says in more of a questioning tone, flopping onto a nearby bean bag like we've known each other for years and she has all the liberty in Canada to interrupt a new episode of Dine or Dunk. My eyes remain focused as the college graduate swallows a puree of, unmentionable grated animal organs. Let's leave it at that for your sake.

I mindlessly nibbled at my creamy, bacony goodness (yes, they have that now. Carly had Spencer drive seventy-one miles for it so I would be a good Puckett and not harass innocent Gibbies until they were able to recover from previous incidents.) while she watched the screen for a bit, feigning interest.

"Sam?"

"M'what?"

"Could you help me out?"

"Sure." I muttered, between my ice cream.

"So, you'll... set me up with Freddie?" She threw out there, all hesitant about it.

Those words send me reeling back to reality, and in concidence Dive or Dunk leaves the arena for a 'commercial break'. It obviously is too a'scared to see my reaction.

I merely shifted for a moment, studying her hopeful grin. It's bigger than the one Spencer had two weeks ago when he found out Chuck was finally caught for roasting his 'lost' PearPod over an open fire.

"You mean the cute one, right? From Geometry?"

"Yeah, your--I mean iCarly's Freddie."

I stared at her, impassively. I find myself shaking my head in disgust.

"Dude," I sighed, "I don't know what you see in that boy. And for your information I was talking about the one that sits in the corner of class and offers people to see his onion rings. What about him?"

She chuckled, like a mother amused by a child's philosophies.

"No, you know he's not my type." She pushed my shoulder, playfully. "So, what do you say?"

Michelle mimics one of my own signature smiles perfectly. "I mean, if that's _alright _with you. I know you and Freddie are sort of close, so—"

"Close? Good _Ham _woman," I breathed, as if she'd uttered a curse. "Mamma doesn't—"

Carly then waltzed in the studio, setting her soda down and grabbing a bean bag as she smiled politely. Acting if she hadn't interrupted a thing and purposely asking if she did just to 'make sure' she didn't.

It's officially been clinically proven.

The girl has an eighth sense that tells her when I'm about to discuss the subject of our techie _without_ mentioning the word 'dork', 'drool' or her name in the sentence at least once in a derogatory way. It's creepy.

And then the boy himself swaggered in casually and hovered over to his sleek black laptop. I jabbed at his ever-dying ego to show my twin how 'CLOSE' we are. He shot back something about my blondeness. Then he just continued to press all his big fancy buttons with their big fancy noises like a hairy old chimpanzee.

"Low blow Fredward." I hissed. "Low BLOW."

"Oh, sure! So you can insult me all you—"

"—Well you know what—"

'I have the right to defend—"

"—That was a—"

"No when I—"

"—Uncalled for!"

"So that's how it's gonna be right?" He yelled, "You—"

He lets me go on in my incessant yelling, putting his hands up in some type of twisted acquiesce.

"You—" And yet he goes on trying to interrupt my rant again.

"—Yeah you know what I don't think it's fair that—"

I thought I heard Carly shouting my name, but then again I hear it so much sometimes I swear it happens everywhere.

And suddenly, I don't know if Freddie just spat on me with his reservoir of disgusting saliva or I was hit by a water gun. He imitates the same taken aback expression I have, and we turn to look at the source.

"That'll teach you to behave," Michelle mock-chided, walking back to her bean bag & tossing that infamous squirt bottle back to Carly.

It caught us off guard, but I had to admit it did work.

* * *

**Heya iCarlies! :D *Dodges the various objects flying at my head* Yea, so I dissapeared for a while. xP SORRY! I went out of it for a while as far as writing goes but I was able to squeeze some updates in I've been tinkering with when I could. Hope you like. This one was needed more than anything else, since it hasn't been done in months. MONTHS! I know. T-T Please do not cause harm to my physical being. Just leave me a little review tellin' me what you thought and we'll be cool, kay? x)**


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